


The Silurians Are To Blame

by PinkGold



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Body Swap, Bottom Master, Doctor and Master Body Swap, Fluffy Ending, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Rough Sex, Teasing, Tenth Doctor Era, The Master Is A Brat, Top Doctor, dom!doctor, no amount of holy water will make me repent, sub!Master, thats it basically, the doctor is a feral creature, this is what happens when the master teases him too much, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23298436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGold/pseuds/PinkGold
Summary: He palmed himself through a layer of briefs and trousers, and that was the lewdest thing he’d ever done. Laying back on the TARDIS’S seats, legs spread wide while one hand teased his nipples and the other squeezed his hardening cock, all the while the only man alive in the universe he respected observed his every move hungrily. Swapping bodies with the Doctor was a kink the Master didn’t know he had until now.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	The Silurians Are To Blame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mars_and_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_and_Moon/gifts).



> I... have nothing to add.  
> This started as a small prompt conversation I had with my friend and it... got out of hand.  
> I'm shamelessly sharing with everyone.  
> Enjoy.

The Master puffed out his lungs. “So this is what it feels like to be the Doctor, huh?” His hands were on the Doctor’s hips, or better,  _ his  _ hips for the time being, mocking the Doctor’s infamous heroism strike pose, “So mighty, I even feel you breathe differently than all of us.”

The Doctor didn’t answer, he just stood leaning against the TARDIS door with his arms (the Master’s arms) crossed as he watched the Master have fun with his body, with an impassive scowl on his face. The Master had never seen his own body that serious. Sure, this blonde haired maniac body of his was still something new, but even so, there was a seriousness to it that he’d never seen.

“Come  _ on, _ Doctor,” The Master scoffed, opening his arms wide and looking up to the skies, “Have some fun, why don’t you? Or did you forget how to do that, too?” 

“Swapping bodies doesn’t strike me as  _ fun _ , Master.”

“That’s where you are wrong, my sweet, sweet friend.” The Master shoved his hands in the Doctor’s huge brownish pockets and walked closer to the Doctor’s side, ignoring the frown forming around the Doctor’s lips — his ones.

They looked so soft from the outside.

“I know that look, and I know what you’re thinking, even though this is my face — how’d do it? Look exactly like yourself with my features?” The Doctor stood straighter, his posture firmly set and urging the Master to stay away, “I’ve already contacted the Silurians, they are on their way to undo this mess.”

“Great, so we’ll have plenty of time to play.” His eyes glinted wickedly, and he wasn’t even sure if that was an expression the Doctor’s face was used to. He opened the TARDIS door, gesturing to the Doctor to enter, “After me.”

The Doctor followed him inside with a sigh.

“I’m not taking my eyes off of you, Master, I won’t let you do any tricks.”

Something warm curled inside of the Master’s belly. The smile he shot at the Doctor felt lascivious.  _ Perfect. _

“That’s what I wanted, because—” he sat on the old matted benches, legs wide open. His hand (the Doctor’s) hung close to his crotch. Too close. “You’re about to witness something few people throughout the universe have the opportunity to see.” He licked his lips predatorily, not noting the way the Doctor’s eyes (his own) followed the tongue with repressed hunger. 

“If you think I’m letting you mess with my body while I watch—”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. And you won’t stop me, Doctor, do you know why?” The hand on his thigh slid upwards to his hips, until his fingertips scratched lazily on top of his crotch. His cock twitched excitedly from the ghost of a touch and the anticipation. The Doctor gulped dryly a few steps away, holding himself steady on the console center. “Because,” the Master continued after the Doctor’s silence, “You like it.”

The Doctor’s continued silence only proved him right. Those wide eyes followed the Master’s every move, from the tie the Master loosened up around his neck, to the hand massaging his lower belly. He saw the hunger growing fast in that gaze, and something inside of Master wanted to turn his head to the side, expose his neck more to the Doctor and moan deeply.

Yes, he had simple needs.

The Master held those desires at bay, for now. He had more important things to do at the moment  — for example, tease the Doctor.

He threw the tie away and opened his jacket all the way down, exposing the white shirt that covered his body. The Master bit his lower lip at the amount of pleasure this was bringing him. Not only did he have the Doctor’s full attention to him, but he was also  _ in _ the Doctor’s body, exploring it freely like he wanted for a long, long time. 

He felt perverted, he loved it.

Through the soft cotton fabric, he pinched his right nipple, worrying it between his fingers until it was hardened and the sensitivity increased. He moaned, lolling his head to the side as the pressure sent sparks through his body, and had his hearts beating twice as fast. He was panting by the time the left nipple perked against the shirt.

Through a hazening glance, he locked eyes with the Doctor again, still teasing, even though it felt more difficult by the second not to lose himself in pleasure. The Doctor was still frozen in place, his knuckles growing white from his hold on the desk and, when the Master’s eyes fell south, he could see a visible bulge on those pants.

“I see you like what you’re seeing.” His voice was deeper, rougher than it had been before, and the Master liked how it felt coming from his throat. He pointed at the Doctor’s pants and smirked smugly at the embarrassment on the Doctor’s face, “Can’t judge. My own pants feel a little tight.”

He palmed himself through a layer of briefs and trousers, and that was the lewdest thing he’d ever done. Laying back on the Doctor’s benches, legs spread wide while one hand teased his nipples and the other squeezed his hardening cock, all the while the only man alive in the universe he respected observed his every move hungrily. Swapping bodies with the Doctor was a kink the Master didn’t know he had until now.

He groaned, closing his eyes to better indulge himself on the feeling. The Master was almost totally hard now, and his hips moved in circles, trying to get more of his own teasing fingers. His palm closed down against his cock once more and roughly massaged it through the cotton.

“Stop it,” The Doctor said harshly from where he stood, and the Master moaned, surprised by the hand the Doctor had over his own hard cock. He shivered at the realization he was the one to get to the Doctor like that.

“Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, Doctor.” His voice was nothing but a faint spark against the bliss that clouded him, but he managed to make it sound as provocative as he wanted it to. He locked his eyes with the Doctor and did what they both were wanting. He opened his trousers button.

“Don’t.” The Doctor warned again, but the Master ignored him. He wanted to know what happened when he got the Doctor to lose control. Slowly, he slid the zipper down, and sighed in relief, suffocating pressure was gone.

Without breaking eye contact, the Master shoved his hands inside his trousers and settled his erection out of it, freeing it once and for all from the hard material of the trousers. The underpants, though, that he kept.

It was tantalizing watching the way the Doctor looked at his own body, pupils dilated and mouth parting with want. The Master cupped his balls and squeezed them tightly, enjoying how the Doctor faltered once more.

“Didn’t know you were a narcissist, Doctor,” The Master managed in between breaths.

The Doctor ignored his comment, “Don’t you  _ dare.” _

“Don’t you dare what?” The Master played with the elastic of his boxers, lifting it a few times and dropping it down again with a slapping sound of the elastic on his skin. “Do this?” He snuck a hand inside while the other pushed the boxers down.

He gripped the base of his cock, taking in how differently it felt from the cock of his own body, but so much more delicious. The moment froze between them, something dark and unrepentant growing around the Doctor like an aura, but it only made the Master more excited.

A small amount of precum now gathered on the head of his cock, looking like clear crystals, ready to be licked or used as the Master pleased. He squeezed the base and his whole body shivered in ecstasy. The Master wanted to do so much more, but damn, there wasn’t anything he wanted more than for the Doctor to lose it on him.

It was when he first stroked up that time finally started moving again. He moaned loudly, head falling to the back of his seat as he stroked again, this time faster and firmer. The Doctor’s body was so sensitive in places so different from his own, he wanted nothing more than to explore it.

To explore with the tip of his fingers how it felt to massage the crown of his cock, or if he would enjoy a twist of his balls. Did the Doctor like penetration?

That question clouded all his other tasks at hand, being now his most important chore. He licked two of his fingers, watching as the Doctor’s eyes widened, all knowing of what the Master’s plan was, but still too frozen in place to do something about it.

He mixed saliva and precum, getting his fingers as slick as he could before thrusting down his pants again, until he found what he was looking for. The rim contracted at his fleeting touch, making pleasure bloom like roses from his ass to his cock.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. One moment he had both his hands teasing and moving around his hips, and the other they were pinned over his head in a strong grip. The Doctor stood before him, eyes completely feral now, having lost all his patience with the Master. He held both the Master’s hand by the wrist with a single one of his own, while the other pinched The Master’s jaw.

He was immobile and mute, and his hearts raced faster while he held his breath in anticipation.

“Shut up,” the Doctor said, voice constricted. Their faces were inches apart, and it was only the Doctor’s hands (his own) that were preventing the Master from closing the gap between their lips. “You’re such a brat, shut  _ up.” _

And even though the grip on his jaw was going to leave purple marks and the look in the Doctor’s face was warning him not to, the Master managed to say, “Make me.”

The Doctor shoved their mouths together in a bruising kiss, instantly dominating the pace and biting the Master’s lips furiously. He pushed his tongue inside with no preamble, with no question that this was what the Master wanted, because it was written all over his face.

The Master wanted to get wrecked.

The Doctor broke the kiss and sucked an angry mark on the side of the Master’s neck, completely ignoring the fact that it was his own body he was marking like that. He pressed a knee against the Master’s leaking cock mercilessly. The Master whimpered, squirming against the grip as pain mixed with pleasure ran through him.

Shamelessly, he rutted against the knee, trying to get whatever friction possible. The Doctor shook his head disapprovingly and pulled his knee out.

“I don’t think you know how to play,” he said gravely, making the Master gulp. He sobbed, grinding up in the air and finding no pressure to content him. The Master was getting distressed.

The hands left his jaw and wrists and turned the Master’s body unceremoniously. They pinned him against the cushions again, in an awkward position, but one which got his ass perked in the air. His coat was pulled back until his elbows, completely locking the Master’s arm in place.

He never thought it would be so good to be at the Doctor’s mercy like that, yet he didn’t remember feeling this hard and excited in a million years.

“Do you want me to teach you? How to play this game?” The Doctor’s voice was low against his ear, and the Master nodded, “I need more than a nod.”

“Y-yes.”

The Doctor hummed, “Not enough,” he roughly gripped the Master’s cock. Too tight. The Master whined and squirmed, trying to make the grip grow lighter, but the Doctor chastised him by tugging it till he screamed. The Doctor continued, voice calm and collected, “Say ‘please, sir’.”

And who was the Master to deny anything the Doctor wanted?

“Yes,  _ please, _ s-sir,” he whimpered out throughout sobs.

And not a second later his trousers and pants fell to the ground. Hands maneuvered his legs to spread wider and his body tighter against the seats. The Doctor squeezed his cheeks, playing and spreading them to his likes, digging in his nails in retaliation to the Master’s earlier behaviour.

The Master felt like he was entering a haze. Nothing else mattered aside from keeping his stance and the pleasure the Doctor was about to give him. The anticipation hit him in slow waves, setting him in the exact mood he needed for this to be just as world-wrecking as he wanted.

The Doctor disappeared from behind him, leaving the cold air from inside the TARDIS to hit his bac, but the Master didn’t feel he had the right to move his head around and spy on what the Doctor was doing, so he stood in place.

“You learn fast, don’t you?” the Doctor said once he was back. The was an undisguised sound of something liquid pouring on the Doctor’s fingers and the Master waited patiently for it. “I might even start calling you good. Would you like that?” 

The Master moaned in answer, squeezing his eyes shut and nodding eagerly.

“That’s right, you just want to be a good boy, don’t you?” The Master nodded again at the Doctor’s words, “You just want to be good for me.”

“Y-yes,” and he added belatedly, “sir.”

The Doctor hummed in approval and sunk a finger inside the Master. The cold intrusion made his body arch involuntarily, so the Doctor had to pin him down with a firm hand on the back. The finger twisted around, prodding and shifting as it wanted, and the Master couldn’t do anything but take it.

And he took the second finger that soon followed in. And the third. Until he was pliant and stretched open.

“Please, please, please,” he gasped in a mantra. Trembling to continue in the same exact position the Doctor had put him in, but aching to move his hips backwards and beg for more. It hadn’t taken long for the Doctor to find his own prostate, and after that he had made sure to press it down as often as it pleased him, ready to make the Master scream.

He let the Doctor. He learned, as quickly as he could, that he would do whatever it took to please his sir.

“Please what?” the Doctor said. His fingers were slowly withdrawing from the Master’s ass, drawing a low and stretched groan of protest from him.

“Please, I _want_ _it,”_ he gave a furtive glance to the Doctor’s pants, to the tented material and licked his lips. His eyes locked with the Doctor’s, sparks flew between them and the tension in the air only grew. “ _I want it inside me. P-please.”_

The Doctor nodded, biting his lips as he quickly opened his pants and shoved it slightly down, freeing his cock after being enclosed for so long. The fingers were gone now, and the Master moaned at the loss of them. He constricted around nothing, growing agitated.

A hand soothed him, petting his hair down.

“Shhhh, boy, just wait a little more. You’re doing great.”

The Master leaned into the touch and nodded, breathing hard and waiting for the Doctor to do as he pleased.

Not much longer, the Master felt the blunt head of his own cock breaching in. The Master gasped and held his breath as the entire length entered him with ease. The burn from the stretch made goosebumps appear on his skin and the Doctor held his hips tight to keep him in place.

The Doctor was breathing hard over the Master’s nape as he bottomed in, his balls scratching against the Master’s. They both held for a moment to catch their breaths and prepare for whatever the Doctor wanted to give him.

He pulled out slowly, gathering up the right tempo to snap back in again. The Master shook at the intensity.

“Please,  _ please,” _ he begged, voice trembling with the nude pleasure of The Doctor’s cock inside of him.

The Doctor shut him up by speeding his pace, making shallow thrusts to hit right at the bundle of nerves. He screamed, his head fell limp between his tense shoulders as he took the long cock gladly.

The thrusts became rougher and unforgiving, and the snapping of their skin together filled the main room of the TARDIS wickedly. The Master couldn’t control his mouth anymore, couldn’t help the pleas and the moans that escaped him as the Doctor hit all the right places.

It was getting difficult to maintain his position, and his cock was throbbing, weeping for the lack of attention.

“Are you close, boy?” the Doctor asked through hard pants. The Master nodded several times, feeling the heat gathering around his lower belly and down in his cock. Each thrust brought him closer to his desired release.

The Doctor wrapped a hand around his dick, jerking him quick and ungracefully. The Master saw white, his skin burning hot and ready to spill over. His mouth fell open in a silent moan, and he thrust back, needing, wanting, desiring —

“Please, please, please,  _ oh,” _ his eyes were screwed closed as he tightened around the Doctor. “I- I’m coming, ah,” he shouted at an especially strong squeeze of the Doctor’s hand, and he came, spilling over the Doctor’s fingers and the seat in front of him.

The Doctor pounded in him through it all, not easing his pace even with the Master squirming under him from time to time. His breath was hitting the back of the Master’s hair now, ragged and feral, and just like that, with one last hard thrust inside the Master, he came.

He grunted low in between intakes of air as his hips faltered a few times before he pulled out from inside the Master. The Doctor slumped on the seat next to the Master and closed his eyes, relaxing. His skin was glowing with post coital sweat, as was his own, the Master noted absentmindedly.

Without knowing where their boundaries were sat, the Master carefully shifted around and collapsed on the seat, nervous that at any minute the Doctor could ask him to sit somewhere else, or maybe even ask him to leave.

The Doctor tsked, sensing the Master’s hesitation, and grabbed the back of the Master’s neck, bringing him gently to lay his head on his lap.

“Sleep,” he ordered sweetly, “I’ll wake you up when the Silurians arrive.”

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAA  
> You can scream at me over my tumblr [sparkly-angell](https://sparkly-angell.tumblr.com/) and I'm super curious to know what you guys think. I was going to say it's my first time writing for Doctor Who but I shamefully have a non finished Torchwood fic as well, so. Yea.  
> Thank you for reading! <3


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